The Sound of Sunshine
by Salem Merciolago
Summary: To Zexion, keeping his salvaged family of surfer bums together is the most important thing to him-well, that and surfing. But will letting Demyx into such a tight knit group destroy it, or turn things for the better? Life is full of change more constant than the tide-can Zexion flow with it all, or will too much of a good thing go sour? Zemyx.
1. Wave One

The Sound of Sunshine

By: Salem Martin

**Wave One**

He showed up without any warning at all. But, that was how they'd all come to be here, so it wasn't that big of a surprise. He looked like he belonged there the least, though, like a pampered little rich bitch sticking it to daddy for a few weeks before he started missing the caviar.

Zexion had been reading a salvaged copy of The Magician's Nephew on the porch in tiki torch light when the kid stumbled up. He had literally stumbled too, lugging a fancy surfboard with him and tripping over sneakered feet. He stepped to a stop a few feet in front of Zexion, panting slightly. It was quite a long way to where they'd set up home.

Zexion looked at him over the top of his book, mildly amused with the situation, waiting for the out of breath boy to speak. When he didn't, Zexion sighed.

"Can I help you?" He asked, and the boy perked up immediately, half hiding behind his surfboard. It was blue from what Zexion could tell in the soft light, and most likely custom made, formed out of expensive materials. It almost insulted him. The boy twisted his feet about in the sand for a moment more before speaking.

"Can…can I—"

"No."

Zexion bit the word out before the boy could finish his sentence, mind already made up. They didn't need someone like this in their home. It was bad for the group feels. Thinking of feels, Zexion could suddenly feel quite a few pairs of eyes on his back, coming through the glassless, curtained window. He heaved another sigh and returned to his book. Trust the group to always leave the wannabes up to him.

"I don't have anywhere else to go though…"

Zexion glared at the kid over the top of his book and through thick bangs that smelled of seawater. The boy was all but climbing his board, wearing black swim trunks and a blue tank top with black sneakers. His hair rivaled some of the crazier 'dos in the group, something between a mohawk and a mullet. He looked desperate. And rich.

"Why not go home?" Zexion retorted unkindly, not eager to take on another member. They were already so assimilated to each other that a new person would throw everything they had completely off kilter. The boy looked down at his feet.

"If I do, it means giving up absolutely everything I love in life, and I don't think I can handle that," he replied softly, then looked up at Zexion with pleading eyes. "Please, oh please! Just give me a chance, all I wanna do is surf! I'll even sleep out here if that's what it takes, just please don't turn me away! I'll just _die_ if I go back home."

Zexion was given the puppy dog eyes, and heard faint sniggers coming from the curtain behind him. He felt a headache coming on.

He wasn't going to win this.

He made a mental note of the page he was one and closed the tattered book, getting up and capping the tiki torch, leaving the only light on the beach to the half-moon in the sky. He looked at the boy one last time.

"Fine. You can crash on the beach. Don't touch our stuff, provide for yourself, don't talk to us, and you can stay…"

"Demyx," the boy helped, and Zexion smirked.

"Demyx. You can stay as long as you like if you can follow those rules. Understand?"

The boy named Demyx nodded, and Zexion pushed open the makeshift door to the home, rolling his eyes. With any luck, the kid would fuck up and he'd have to be kicked off the beach they'd claimed. If Zexion's luck ran bad… He stopped in the hallway and glared at the trio who grinned evilly back at him from their places next to the window. With Axel, Xigbar, and Larxene as a team, his luck wouldn't run bad. He harrumphed and continued on to his room, the hanging beads that served as his door rattling obnoxiously as he passed through them. Riku was already passed out in his hammock, snoring lightly. Zexion climbed the ladder to get to his hammock, shimmying in carefully so that he didn't flip and fall on Riku (which had happened too many times to count before, all with varying results of Riku wrath). There was a small hole cut out near the ceiling that served as Zexion's personal spy window, giving him a good view of the beach from where he lay in his hammock.

He stared out at the moonlit beach, the waves crashing soothingly. Demyx was a dark smudge against the picture, the boy sitting on the beach with his rich kid board and his pampered soul. Zexion lay back in his hammock, swaying slightly and smiling, closing his eyes. He wasn't going to last half a day.

Zexion woke up early the next day as usual, the smell of breakfast being made drifting through the home. He laid in his hammock for a few moments, waking up and letting cool air work into his muscles for the day. Early morning and late at night were the only times it got any kind of cool here. Even in the winter it was too warm in the daytime, but at least during then you had to pile up a few more blankets than usual. This time of year it was just warm and then uncomfortably hot, with a few days of positively muggy and a few days of dangerous heat. But that was the Islands, for you. Temperamental with the temperature. Zexion didn't have any desire to see snow anyways.

Rolling over onto his stomach, he peered over the edge of his hammock, checking to see if Riku was the one up making breakfast. Being met with the sight of a still snoring silverette, Zexion crawled out of his hammock and quietly climbed down the ladder. He forewent shoes, like everyone else did unless they were going into town, and padded bare foot into the kitchen area where Axel and Roxas were conversing quietly about something as Axel roasted sausages in their tiny little makeshift stove/fireplace. The redhead glanced up as the slate-haired man wandered in, sliding just off the poker sausages onto a slightly chipped plate and handing it to him. Zexion took it with a word of thanks and sat down next to Roxas in what they affectionately called the Food Nook (when really, it was just two wobbly tables with mismatched chairs that were kind of sectioned off by more tacky beaded curtains.

"So, Zex, I was filling Roxy in about the new kid. Care to elaborate a bit more for him?" Axel drawled, sitting down with a plate to share for him and Roxas, who glared at him for the nickname.

Zexion waved at his sausages to cool them off before trying to eat them, also trying to buy himself some time to think.

"What more should I say that you didn't overhear last night? He's a pampered little bitch who will inevitably give up 'everything he loves' to go running back to his daddy's money," Zexion said, biting into a link with finality. It tasted a bit old, but a quick check made sure they were all cooked through, and his now burnt anyway tongue told him that they were well past a safe heat. They made do with whatever they could get their hands on, but with none of them having any sort of medical insurance or decently paying job they still had to be careful. None could afford to get sick; even if they all pitched in, it wouldn't cover the bills.

"Oh? And what if he's more headstrong than the others?" Axel asked, nearly swallowing a link whole. "You say you give them at least a week because none of them have lasted that long before. What if he does? He looks dumb enough to do it."

Zexion huffed his slate colored bangs out of his face and abandoned the idea of cooling off his sausage links.

"And if he does, what do you think he could possibly understand about any of this? I'll bet you that the only concept of a family he has is a broken one, and that'll be how he functions in a group situation," he said. "He'll throw everything we've built out of balance, Axel. I can't have that."

Roxas snorted, stealing the last three sausage links from Axel before the redhead could eat them all.

"You can't have that? Really? You sound like…you don't even sound like a mom, dude. You sound like some ruling overlord. What's so terrible about mixing some things up? If he can haul his own, then it benefits all of us. You know that," he said through a mouthful of meat. Zexion sighed and finished off his sausage as Riku came into the kitchen, shirtless and yawning. The slate-haired man waited until Axel had turned back to making sausage, Roxas had turned to washing off his plate, and Riku was looking the opposite direction before allowing his eyes to roam over the expanse of skin the silverette showed.

Riku had been the third member to show up, the first stranger to the pair of Zexion and Roxas. The two of them had only been living in the old, abandoned surf shop on a back beach of Destiny Islands for about a month, barely scraping by on stolen food and two miles that way tap water in the single fast food restaurant on the island. One day, a terribly grungy boy showed up barefoot and so dirty they hadn't a clue what his actual hair color was, begging for a place to stay. Roxas, only being about twelve at the time, had hidden in their salvaged home while Zexion talked with the boy. It had ended with a rather forced bath in the ocean, revealing Riku's real hair color as well as multiple bruises lining his pale skin. Zexion took him in for real, then, and it was many more months before Riku had informed them as to why he'd shown up the way he did.

_"Riku, you know this is going to scar with the way you're treating it, right?"_

_ "I know. I don't care though. I'm just glad there aren't going to be more where that came from."_

_ "Well, as long as you don't run into any sharks, at least."_

Zexion smiled slightly, remembering Roxas' light hearted comment that day. The ugly scar in question roped from one shoulder to the opposite hip down Riku's back, thick and lilac. The story it held wasn't a happy one. But, Riku hadn't run into any sharks yet, so Zexion figured they should all be thankful for that.

"Earth to the mother ship, you comin' down anytime soon?"

Zexion jerked out of his reverie, leaning away from Axel as the redhead invaded his personal space.

"Jeez, the kid's already half naked, dunno why you'd feel the need to strip the rest of him," Axel said, grinning and dodging as Zexion kicked out at him, making the beads rattle loudly. Riku just laughed softly and kept tending to his sausages.

"Who's stripping who? I want in!" Xigbar whined his way into the kitchen, pulling his long gray and black hair into the usual ponytail. He had yet to put on his eyepatch, the pale off white of his cheap glass eye gazing into nothingness. He'd shown up after Axel, but before Larxene, and was probably the only reason Zexion had even considered letting Larxene stay in the first place.

"No one's stripping anyone…yet, anyway," Axel purred, and Zexion stood up to wash his plate, ignoring the insinuation. As far as any of them were concerned, what he and Riku had had was long gone. "Where's Larx? I didn't hear her come in last night."

Xigbar sat and poked Riku with his toes until the silverette begrudgingly gave him the sausages he had just cooked for himself, muttering 'fatty' insults under his breath while he did so.

"She got another one of those seedy little queer jobs at wherever will take her tit size," Xigbar replied crudely, the sight of only one moving eye still a little unsettling even after so many years. "She said she'd be home before lunch at least. Maybe it'll pull in some good cash, I think she went all the way in to Trav on the tram."

Zexion frowned slightly. It bothered him when Larxene ventured so far. It could end up being really dangerous. He paused that thought, and groaned as he realized that he really did sound like a ruling overlord of some sort. Or just a really overprotective mother. He needed some blank time.

He stacked his plate on the rest and slipped out of the kitchen. He passed a groggy Sora, who bid him a sleepy good morning as he shuffled into the kitchen to eat Riku's sausages and hang on his shoulders. He stopped in his room only to slip on his swim trunks and shed his shirt, grabbing the almost empty can of board wax before leaving out the back door.

Kairi and Namine were talking on the porch area, already in their bikini swimsuits (or maybe they'd just slept in them, wouldn't be the first time) and sharing a small fruit smoothie from the stand a mile down. The smoothie man sold them at half price for the early birds, and at half the half for regulars such as the two girls.

Zexion nabbed a sip before passing them to grab his surfboard from the stack, the warm morning wind feeling good on his shoulders. He remembered when the two girls showed up as well. It had been them and Sora all together in a little trio, much younger than the rest of them and very lost and afraid. That had definitely been an easy decision for Zexion to make, and one that, ultimately, he was glad he made.

Even if it meant that he didn't get what he wanted.

Shaking that thought away, Zexion trotted past the home and onto the sand, the granules still a bit chilly from last night. It was low tide, so the waves were gentle and perfect for relaxing upon. When the ocean was calm like this, the slate-haired man liked to drift on his board and meditate. It was dangerous, but in that, very calming and opening. He glanced about for Demyx before working on preparing his board and sighed with relief as the kid was nowhere to be found. Maybe he'd gotten too cold and gone home to his big fluffy silk sheeted bed. Zexion frowned, feeling slightly bitter.

It wasn't like any of them couldn't go out and be successful. Namine was a phenomenal artist, reduced to selling caricatures in the tourist area of Destiny Islands. Larxene could coax the pants off the Queen and then sell them back to her for triple the price, but was instead shedding her own clothing for a third what she was worth. Axel knew more about chemistry than even Zexion, and he used it to make the best goddamn burgers in town, still only getting paid a fifth of the minimum wage an hour. Roxas could have won championships for his athletics, and the only competitions he participated in were petty ones for extra food with Axel or Xigbar.

Zexion looked out at the waves.

And then there was him. Intelligent, very intelligent. So smart it almost hurt sometimes to not be able to use that constructively. There were many, many times where Zexion had asked himself what the hell he was doing here, wasting his life on surfing and sleeping in hammocks and silly relationships with almost family members; why he wasn't out earning a fully paid scholarship to some fancy school and getting paid in six digits plus every year.

He heard the back door slam, and a few seconds later, Roxas dropped down next to him, waxing up his own board, wearing the checkered swim trunks he'd been able to fit into for years. Zexion smiled at him, a smile reserved only for him, and Roxas smiled back, unspoken words in between them.

That was why.

He had an obligation to protect him, to protect everyone, even if they were capable of protecting themselves. He had to be the glue that held them together, the tide that kept everything flowing and fluid. That's why it all started, and that's how it was going to stay for as long as Zexion could make it.

They finished their boards in silence, then splashed into the water in sync. Zexion ignored the third set of splashes that came from further down, knowing with an angry twist in his gut that it wasn't anyone who belonged here. But the moment that gut hit his board, any and all twists went away, and suddenly it was simply the pull of his limbs through current and the steady shoosh of the massive body of water around him. This was also why he stayed. No matter how smart he was, no matter how many zeroes showed up on his paycheck, none of those things compared to the feeling of freedom and absolute joy that resulted in the sea.

Far enough out to relax, Zexion let his arms and legs go slack, breathing slowly to minimize the amount of saltwater inhaled, and just let himself drift in the waves, feeling a private happiness in his mind.

_When in doubt, surf._


	2. Wave Two

**Wave Two**

The waves started to pick up around noon, incidentally at about the same time as Larxene returned from wherever she'd been, reeking of cheap beer and fanning herself with ones. She counted out half, which she gave to Zexion, and put the other half in the back pocket of her short shorts. Zexion gave her a calculating glance before he took the money inside, unlocking the safe box with the key on the necklace he wore and counting it into their savings. With what the blonde girl had made, they were above their usual amount for the week. Zexion wasn't sure if that really made him happy or not.

He locked the box and went back outside, stretching in the hot sunlight. Larxene had stripped down to her underwear, holding her old, not so bright yellow anymore surfboard as she gossiped with Xigbar. Zexion rolled his eyes and dragged his board to rest against the front porch, sitting down beside it. Xigbar said something, looking over at the slate-haired man, and Larxene laughed, waving her hand dismissively. Pivoting on her heel and letting Xigbar catch her board, she sashayed over to where Zexion sat and flopped down next to him. Zexion wrinkled his nose.

"You reek," he grumbled, and she just beamed.

"Ever the ray of sunshine, I see. The fuck's got you in a twist? Is it that bratty kid that showed up last night?" She replied, flicking some sand at him.

"I could care less about him. It's…" Zexion sighed. "Why go all the way to Traverse Town? It's kind of a sketchy ride there."

Larxene laughed, the sound harsh and cold.

"You make it sound like I strip on the damn tram, Zexy, jeez. I can hold my own and besides, you're not my mother. That bitch died years ago. So just chill. I bring home more cash, we get to eat a little nicer, maybe grab some new boards. It's no big fucking deal, so quit being such a chick about it," she said lightly. Zexion just shrugged.

"It's just that we couldn't help you out if you got involved in something stupid—"

The blonde fixed him with a cutting glare.

"What, like getting gang banged in an alleyway? Do you even see who you're fucking talking to?"

"Larxene, you don't _get _it, even if you can hold your own, you're still only one person! What if something happens and we really aren't there to help you?" Zexion spat, and the girl's face hardened. He didn't wait for a response from her however, and continued. "Yes, I'm sure we'll appreciate the extra money, but I don't think we'd appreciate losing you. But do whatever you like, Larx, because you will anyway. I'm catching this wave."

And with that, Zexion stood and grabbed his board, ignoring the situation. It wasn't any good to argue with the girl. Once she got it into her mind she was going to do something, she was going to do it and it was just something they'd all come to deal with. Besides, it did bring in more money, right?

As he paddled out to wait for the wave to swell, he heard someone come up alongside him, and looked over, thinking it to be Xigbar or Roxas. However, it was neither, and who it actually was soured his mood even more. Demyx kept pace with him, breathing slowly and glancing at him sideways every few seconds. Zexion let out a frustrated sound. Why couldn't people keep to their own space and to their regular routines and… the water began to pick up underneath him and Zexion prepared to stand. At least this never changed. It was the same each time. Swim, swell, sigh, and surf.

Demyx was following his every move, invading Zexion's mind with his silent persistence. It was making it extremely difficult to just blank out and forget; forget that people changed all the time, forget that things couldn't stay the same, forget that one day maybe everyone would just…

The wave rolled, picking them up high. Zexion let himself drop down, his board vibrating slightly underneath his feet, and struggled to allow the power and beauty that was the ocean to pass over him and take his fears away. He looked up from the water to see Demyx riding the same wave in front of him, his form elegant and as perfect as a professional's. Suddenly, it didn't seem like Zexion was surfing anymore, simply floating in some sort of fast motion dream, his mind going empty. Slow motion amidst the fast motion dream, Demyx turned his head slightly, looking back at the slate-haired man and smiling softly.

With a snap almost audible to his ears, everything returned to Zexion at once, and he lost his footing, tumbling and slipping into the bubbly water below.

_He'd been seven the first time he'd wandered into the indoor pool area of the house alone. It was very late at night and everyone else was sleeping soundly. He wasn't allowed anywhere near the water and didn't know how to swim, but he was curious. He was always curious. Therefore, he didn't consider the dangers as he stepped closer to the edge of the softly lit blue water. He wrinkled his nose at the stench of chemicals and got on his hands and knees to dip small fingers into the cool substance._

_ It had been a particularly bad day that day. He'd been yelled at all day for everything, and there was a nice bruise or two forming on his upper arms where mother had hit him for being too loud. Father had ripped up one of his books for turning the page too annoyingly and he'd been sent to bed at one in the afternoon without lunch or dinner for being a burden on the household (his parent's words, not his). _

_ Looking down at the rippling water around his hands, he marveled at the shadows the tiny waves made on his pale skin, and wondered suddenly what it would be like to just be surrounded by it all._

_ Being seven, he at least knew that you couldn't breathe under water, or you'd drown. He didn't want to drown, really. He just wanted to…suspend everything for a very long time. _

_ He leaned forward a bit more and slipped, crashing into the harshly scented water. Bubbles flew all about him, streaming from his open lips, confusing him. He struggled, unable to swim. His small lungs screamed for air, his pajamas weighing him down, and then—_

_ And then none of it mattered, because he was weightless. His vision got dizzy and he stopped struggling. Floating and drifting. It was beautiful. His lungs still hurt, but he didn't care. He didn't care because…_

"Zexion!"

_Because…_

"Shit, dude, wake up!"

"He isn't breathing, oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck…"

"Then do something dammit! Someone fucking has to!"

"Eek! Um, erm, okay…"

It no longer mattered about why he didn't care about not breathing, because all of a sudden there was used air being forced into his lungs and it didn't feel good. Out of the woozy blackness that surrounded Zexion, he could feel something pressing against his lips…

And jerked back into consciousness, his legs coming up to his chest and kicking out instinctively, then rolling over onto his hands and knees and hacking up a fair amount of seawater. His throat was raw and his body was sore. He heard a pained groan and turned to see who it was he'd accidentally kicked.

Demyx was sprawled out on the sand, coughing slightly as he rubbed at his chest. Roxas was looking at him worriedly, and Larxene and Xigbar were laughing at him. Zexion spat onto the sand and pouted slightly.

_Please don't let him have saved my life… _He thought pleadingly.

"Wow, dude. I didn't think I'd ever see you wipe out that bad, but damn. You're lucky Dem was there to nab ya, huh?" Axel said, grinning like a cat. Zexion groaned in his own sort of proud pain, sitting back on his heels. This would be where his luck ran bad.

"Yes, lucky…" He mumbled grumpily, his head throbbing from his loss of consciousness. Raising his voice, he continued, "but if you think that's going to help your case, you thought wrong. You broke two of the conditions. You can't stay."

It got very quiet amongst the group, an almost disbelieving silence as his words were taken in. After much looking at each other and awkward shuffles, Roxas spoke up.

"Zex…he saved your life. Letting him stay would be the least you could do."

"I don't care. He doesn't fit in here anyway. He should just go back home to his fancy house with all his things and leave us alone. No one asked him to come here," Zexion replied, shooting a scathing look over at Demyx, who looked at the sand broken-heartedly.

"Zexion, what the hell? You never did that to any of us!" Kairi yelled, her hands on her hips. Demyx heaved a sigh and shook his head, standing up slowly.

"No, really, it's okay. He's right-I don't belong here," he said in defeat. "I just figured it was a lot better than moving to a landlocked place and catering to fat cats all day just so I can have material shit I don't need. If he doesn't want me to be here, that's okay, really. I won't regret saving his life, or his board, and I'll leave out of respect."

He turned and picked up his surfboard, walking away without a backward look. Zexion sighed happily and got up slowly, ignoring the angry looks from everyone around him.

"Zex…"

The slate-haired man turned to face Riku, who looked uncomfortable, and suddenly, Zexion dreaded what he was about to say.

"I get that you have all these weird family values and shit, but that little 'rich bitch' risked his life twice to save you and your surfboard. I don't really think your vote matters in this issue. He's staying," Riku said, and was accompanied by murmurs of agreement. Zexion huffed indignantly.

"Fine. Keep him out of my space then."

Turning his back on triumphant faces, he stalked back to the home to go pout in his room, trying very hard to become deaf to the shouts of "come back!" and "you can stay!"

He hated it when his luck ran bad.


End file.
